The air was heavier than I remembered, thick with an almost tangible weight that pressed against my lungs.
I stepped out onto the porch, the creak of the old wooden boards beneath my feet grounding me as I gripped the railing. The sky stretched endlessly above, painted in muted shades
of morning light—
but no sun. No eclipse. Just an unsettling
stillness that refused to let go.
Had the eclipse already happened? Or was this something else entirely? Questions swirled in my mind, tangling with the remnants of last night's strange events.
I moved into the yard, the grass slick with dew and catching the faint glow of the frozen dawn.
My gaze lifted to the horizon, searching for something—anything—that could explain the wrongness clinging to the edges of the world. But the sky betrayed no answers, only a hollow vastness that deepened my unease.
Jia appeared on the porch, her phone clenched tightly in her hand. Her face was drawn, exhaustion etched into every line, yet her eyes burned with frustration. "Taryn, have you seen anything?" she demanded, her voice sharp and tense.
I shook my head, biting back my irritation. "No. It's just… still. Like time's stuck."
Jia stomped down the steps toward me, holding out her phone.
Headlines littered the screen, their words screaming panic and confusion:
'Eternal Dawn,' 'Sun Missing,'
Her finger jabbed at one article.
"People think this is the end of the world. And you're just standing here like it doesn't matter!"
Her words hit me like a slap. "I do care," I shot back, my voice rising.
"But yelling at me won't fix anything, Jia!"
The tension between us crackled in the air, a sharp contrast to the silence of the world. We'd argued before—sisters always do—but this felt different.
It was as if the strangeness of the sky had seeped into our relationship, twisting it into something brittle and strained.
Devon's voice cut through before the argument could escalate further. "Stop it, both of you," he said firmly, stepping into the yard.
His expression was grim, his dark eyes carrying the same worry I felt deep in my chest. "Fighting won't get us answers. We need to stick together."
I let out a shaky breath, the anger ebbing away as I nodded reluctantly.
Jia turned away, muttering under her breath, and I pushed down the pang of guilt that threatened to rise. She was scared—I knew that. We all were.
Neighbors milled about, their faces pale and tense as they exchanged theories and fears. A group clustered near the community park, their voices rising in hushed urgency.
Devon nudged me forward, and I followed reluctantly, my nerves buzzing.
"What's happening?" one man asked as we approached. His face was lined with worry, his hands gripping the edges of a newspaper. "Is the sun… gone forever?"
The question sent a ripple of fear through the crowd, their murmurs growing louder. I bit my lip, searching for words that could calm them, but my mind was empty.
What could I say when I didn't know the answers myself?
"You don't know anything, do you?" a woman snapped, her tone accusatory.
Her gaze locked onto me, sharp and biting. "Why are you even here?"
The confrontation made my stomach churn, but I forced myself to meet her eyes. "I'm looking for answers just like you," I said evenly, though my voice wavered slightly.
Her expression didn't soften, but she turned away, muttering angrily.
The crowd's tension hung in the air like a storm cloud, thick and suffocating. I felt Devon's hand on my shoulder, grounding me, and I took a shaky breath.
As we crossed the park itself. A lone figure stood at its center, their silhouette stark against the eerie light.
I stopped in my tracks, the sight of them sending a shiver down my spine. Something about their presence felt… wrong.
"Who's that?" Jia whispered, her voice tinged with unease.
The figure turned slowly, their gaze piercing as it locked onto mine. "You've come seeking answers," they said, their voice low and resonant.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. "What's happening? Why is the sun gone?"
Their expression remained unreadable, but their words carried a weight that pressed heavily against my chest. "The sun is not gone," they said.
"Elsewhere?" Devon echoed, his voice sharp.
"What does that even mean?"
The figure didn't respond immediately, their gaze shifting to the horizon.
"The world is changing," they said finally. "In ways you cannot yet comprehend. But be warned—your decision will reveal all you want to see."
"Excuse me, but can you tell us who are you all?"
The figure turned away, their silhouette fading into the strange light as if swallowed by the stillness itself.
"They left just like that?" Devon wanted to chase them but I stopped him.
We made our way back to the house, the questions lingered, heavy and unrelenting. The answers were out there, waiting to be uncovered—but the conflicts inside and around me felt just as pressing. The strange dawn wasn't just changing the world—it was changing us.
Everyone in the house was restless—Jia glued to her phone, Devon pacing, Grandma trying to mask her concern with soft words and coffee.
I needed to do something. Anything. Sitting around and waiting for answers wasn't an option anymore.
My thoughts wandered to the school—maybe things were normal there. Maybe the routines of the day could shake the strangeness loose, just for a moment.
I grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the dresser, my movements quick and deliberate. The familiar texture of my jeans and the worn fabric of my sweater brought a fleeting sense of comfort, grounding me in the ordinary.
I needed to believe that normalcy still existed somewhere.
As I stepped into the living room, Grandpa glanced up from his chair, his brows furrowing. "Going out?" he asked, his tone gentle but edged with concern.
I nodded, pulling on my sneakers. "I'm heading to the school," I said. "Just to see if... if everything's okay there."
Grandpa exchanged a look with Grandma, who was wiping down the kitchen counter. Her gaze softened as she approached me, her hands still holding the cloth. "Be careful," she said quietly. "And don't stay out too long."